Spring Forward, Fall Back — Still Stupid
Everyone agrees changing the clocks is ridiculous, which is why an always ridiculous Congress still hasn’t fixed it.
A year ago, I wrote about America’s strange biannual ritual of changing the clocks and collectively pretending it makes sense.
Twelve months later, Congress has once again studied the issue with the urgency usually reserved for geological change. The clocks will change this weekend. Again.
So, in honor of another national bout of self-inflicted jet lag, it seems only fair to revisit the subject.
With wars raging abroad and Washington still a circus at home, here we are, once again wrangling through that same issue of vital importance: the changing of the clocks.
That’s right, it’s still with us: our semi-annual ritual of national jet lag, the changing of the clocks. You’d think we’d have gotten rid of this custom by now but, unfortunately, that takes an act of Congress, so grab a Maalox and settle in.
Everyone grumbles about the time change. Some of us complain that the only reason we did it way back when was because of the farmers and the railroads. But since the country only has about four farmers left, and nobody rides the rails, why are we still bothering?
Others complain about the people complaining about their complaints. Lighten up, they say. It’s just an hour, and who cares if that’s the hour you would’ve otherwise used to boil 20 three-minute eggs?
And you always have those grammar Nazis yelling that there’s no “s” at the end of “saving” in Daylight Saving Time, and they’ll dress you down in a New York minute, or maybe 60 of them.
Other nitpickers will say you shouldn’t use “grammar Nazi” for the spell-checkers among us because that’s offensive to grammarians who don’t like being associated with Nazis, or Nazis who care little for grammar. Especially those “neo” ones who prefer to read books by the light of a tiki torch — if they haven’t already burned them. Hey, Nazi humor at its finest.
Or maybe someone just wanted to save a letter “s” for another occasion, like when they step in something.
Perhaps we mistakenly pronounce the “s” because of some auditory affectation: the word “savings” with an “s” flows more easily off the tongue. But that wouldn’t be fair to Daylight Standard Time. The word “Standard” doesn’t get an “s.” Why should “Saving”? DEI for all words beginning with “s”!
Now, if you really wanted to nitpick, you’d note that the term “Daylight Saving Time” is inaccurate since no daylight is actually saved. “Daylight Shifting Time” would be more accurate. Maybe that’s what we should call it. Let me sleep on it.
The epicenter of Daylight Saving Time confusion used to be Indiana. At first, the whole state was in the Central Time Zone — until some bureaucrat decided to push the dividing line westward, splitting the state in two. Most counties landed in Eastern Time, except for a dozen in the northwest and southwest that stayed Central.
Then, just to keep things interesting, five southeastern counties unofficially switched to Daylight Saving Time to match Cincinnati and Louisville.
Because, why not?
It was enough to make the finest Swiss watchmakers throw up their hands in resignation.
For decades, Indiana politicians tiptoed around the mess, like in 1996 when gubernatorial candidate Rex Early boldly declared, “Some of my friends are for putting all of Indiana on Daylight Saving Time. Some are against it. And I always try to support my friends.”
Didn’t help. He lost.
Years ago, as a morning radio host, I called a guy who lived on one side of the timeline and worked on the other.
“I’m never late for work,” he joked. “Sometimes I’m late for dinner, though.”
After more debates (and a statewide Maalox shortage), lawmakers finally threw in the towel, and in 2006 the entire state began observing Daylight Saving Time.
Indiana eventually figured it out.
Congress is still working on it, though any form of the word “work” should never be in the same sentence as the word “Congress.”
Which brings us to the federal government, where solving the daylight saving time problem has proven to be slightly more difficult than landing on the moon.
Congress has tried with something called the Sunshine Protection Act — apparently drafted under the assumption that the sun itself might wander off if left unsupervised.
The bill finally passed the Senate in 2022 by unanimous consent, which in Washington is roughly the legislative equivalent of everyone harrumphing politely and assuming someone else will deal with it later.
Naturally, the House never passed it. Apparently, not enough MAGA.
New versions of the bill have since been introduced and quietly parked in committee rooms, where legislation goes to enjoy a long and comfortable retirement.
Congress, it turns out, can move the clocks twice a year but can’t move a bill once.
The debate continues anyway.
Sleep experts prefer permanent standard time because it aligns better with human circadian rhythms. Others say the later sunsets of Daylight Saving Time encourage outdoor activity and shopping.
Businesses like that idea, hoping people will go out and spend money in their stores.
Except maybe people shopping for mattresses.
Seriously, all of this has been taken as serious debate in Congress, with various sleep experts — and let’s face it, who here isn’t an expert at sleeping? — explaining that darker mornings are dangerous for children walking to school.
Look around, boneheads: kids aren’t walking to school anymore. Their parents drive them three blocks in SUVs the size of an aircraft carrier because poor little precious can’t walk any further than from the couch to the kitchen between rounds on their Playstation.
And with so many people shopping online now, the only light shoppers need is a table lamp.
Not that it helps much — some of these purchases make you wonder if anyone’s even awake.
“Flip-flops? You ordered flip-flops? From the internet? Really? What, the WalMart greeter wouldn’t let you in the store?”
“They got a whole aisle of nothing but flip-flops and you’re paying shipping?”
“Oh, but these are designer flip-flops,” a lady once told me.
Lady, designer flip-flops ain’t gonna help those feet — those toes need witness protection.
One study found trampoline injuries in New Zealand were most common in spring, just after clocks were set forward.
The solution is simple: ban trampolines.
But only in New Zealand.
Remember, though: when you fly to New Zealand, you lose an entire day, and who wants to do that?
The real problem has never been whether mornings are too dark or evenings too bright.
The real problem is that twice a year most of the nation compliantly submits to institutionalized sleep deprivation.
That’s what screws people up.
More traffic accidents. More heart attacks. More cranky, sleep-deprived zombies wandering into work on Monday morning.
Not because of the time itself — but because we keep messing with it.
Just look at Arizona. They saw this whole debate, shrugged, and said, “Yeah, no.”
And guess what?
Nobody there is losing their minds over morning darkness. Nobody’s kids are getting swallowed by the void on their way to school. Nobody’s rioting because they lost an hour of evening frolicking.
Arizona just exists. Peacefully. On the same damn time all year long.
Well, here’s an idea. One year the entire country simply refuses to change the clocks. Every airline, every business, every school, every phone company, every car manufacturer — everyone just quietly agrees to ignore the whole thing and move on with their lives.
Everyone, that is, except Congress, where the clocks move twice a year but nothing else ever does.
They can operate on their own special time zone — Congressional Clown Time — permanently stuck somewhere between yesterday’s argument and tomorrow’s inaction.
Not gonna happen, of course, so we’ll stumble around our homes twice a year resetting clocks we didn’t even know we owned.
Your phone updates automatically. Your car stubbornly refuses. The microwave appears to be operating on Greenwich Mean Confusion.
For two days every March, the average American household exists in three separate time zones.
And there’s still no solution for older cars and appliances that follow the old schedule, which means every October and every March you have to change those clocks again — a process that usually requires consulting a manual written in hieroglyphics.
Here’s another idea.
Maybe we can make the time change from January 1st to January 30th. Everyone is hungover from New Year’s, so they can use the extra hour of sleep and then hibernate through the rest of the month so they won’t miss losing that extra hour come February.
Besides, who’s going to miss another “white sale”?
Isn’t it strange that we Americans, who are always seething over the government telling us what to do, still let the government tell us when to wake up?
Telling us when to wake up isn’t the government’s job.
It’s your bladder’s job.
Maybe if we live long enough — maybe another hundred years, since that’s how long it’ll take Congress to fix this thing figure out they have a job — we can look back and say, “Hey, remember when we used to change our clocks? How dumb was that?”
And our children will ask, “Mommy, why were people so dumb back then?” To which, mom will say, “Honey, if you think that’s dumb, let me tell you about Trump voters.”
Then we’ll get complaints from those traditionalists, whining, “I want my time change back!”
Fine, sonny: here’s a rotary dial phone for ya. And a MAGA hat.
Here’s what I say: next time, when we get that extra hour of sleep again, we keep it.
Just try to take it back.
From my cold, dead hands.